54
Tables covered in snowy linen lined the walls, silver goblets and platters agleam atop them. Freshly dusted chairs took up any residual space between the tables. Small flames burned in every steel sconce.
The throne room was ready.
I wasn’t sure I was.
Wolves steadily trickled in. They bowed before taking their posts along the entry wall and behind the throne. Some stood by the tables, others out in the hall. A wolf I’d glimpsed before halted my journey across the room.
“My queen.” He bowed deeply. “Gore. Friend and hind of the king.”
“Hind?” I questioned.
The giant male straightened and placed a hand over the brooch holding his russet cloak.
“I suppose it’s similar to a right hand of the king.
” The smoothness of his voice was accentuated by the way it lilted.
“And queen.” Half of his face was so severely scarred that it barely moved when he grinned.
“It’s a great honor to meet and serve you. ”
That brooch. A silver blade. Strenard had worn it.
Remembering where I’d seen him—blocking the throne room doors with Ruvus during the wedding—I asked, “Did you assist Voran with his plans?”
Gore nodded. “I did.”
I stepped forward and took his hands. “Then the honor is mine, Gore.”
The male turned to stone. He blinked, mouth slack as he looked down the room.
Voran entered through the door beyond the throne. He wore no crown nor jewels—just a charcoal shirt and black leather pants beneath a large smoky furred cloak.
His father’s pelt.
He leaned against the throne, bulky boots crossed at the ankles. As I left Gore and approached, Valadorn’s new king didn’t look at me. But when I stood before the throne, he murmured while staring down the expansive room, “You have made Gore very nervous.”
Frowning, I asked, “Why?”
“A wolf does not touch someone who is mated. No matter how innocent or well-intended, it’s often deemed a sign of disrespect that necessitates…” He bobbed his head. “Well, punishment.”
Though his cool tone and those words rattled my already frayed nerves, I rolled my eyes. “You lot truly do cling to the old ways.” I huffed. “Besides, I touched him.”
“And that is why he will not be punished,” he said, eyes finally sliding to me.
I immediately looked at my hands. Folded my fingers together. After what happened yesterday with Theela, I was even more troubled than before. I wanted to ask him why, demand that he give me a good reason for getting rid of her.
I was also afraid it was all my fault.
Voran joined me in front of the dais. His warmth grazed without him touching me. “Chirp, broshklin.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I want you to.”
“Now I really don’t want to.”
“Insolence will earn you bruises on your ass from my teeth.”
I gasped and glared at him.
Which was exactly what he wanted—his mouth curving. But as he watched me, his jaw twitched, and his brows sank. “Just looking at you makes my cock ache.”
My back straightened, then stiffened when I remembered those with heightened hearing in the room. Through my teeth, I whispered, “We are far from alone.”
“And I am far from caring.”
“Well, I do care.”
Another smirk. “I know.”
That narrowed my eyes. “And I know what you’re doing.”
“That I’m imagining dragging you into the antechamber behind us and smothering your moans with my hand while I fuck the stubbornness out of you?”
“Voran,” I hissed.
“That I’m imagining how my seed will dribble down your thighs when we return and get this tedious shit over with?”
My entire face caught fire. “Stop.” But he wouldn’t.
Not until I gave him what he wanted.
“And that—”
“You shouldn’t have done that to Theela,” I blurted.
Despite giving him what he wanted, the last thing he seemed to be was satisfied. All amusement vanished from his face. “Yes.” A cold and hissed word. “I should have.”
“She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“She fed me.” A groove formed between his low brows. “You should be pleased.”
His confusion, evident in the way he searched my face for answers, tugged at my foolish heart. Goddess, he really had done it for me. As some sort of bizarre grand gesture, as Celestine had said.
“Maybe,” I whispered. “But it…” I sighed then admitted, “I’m definitely not pleased. She could have simply not fed you her blood again. This was her home, Voran, and that had to have—”
“This is our home.”
My mouth closed and dried. Something pinched within my chest. But nearing footsteps lured my eyes from Voran’s.
Ruvus bowed. “King, I would like a word with our queen.”
“If our queen permits,” Voran said, each word tightly woven.
Stunned, I jerked my head in an odd nod. “Yes.” Brushing my hands over the white lace covering my velvet skirts, I said, “Of course.”
If Ruvus noticed my awkwardness, he gave no indication.
He pushed his spectacles up his straight nose and avoided eye contact as he quickly bowed. “Queen,” he clipped. “I wish to inform you that your friend, Princess Celestine, is no longer required to reside in my quarters. She is now free to do as she wishes.”
“Thank you, Ruvus.”
“I have also told her as much.” His jaw clenched as he said, “Yet she remains.”
Unsure what to do, I glanced at Voran.
He scratched at his freshly shaven chin. “You speak as if bothered by this, Ruvus.”
“Because I am.” Clasping his hands together, the commander added, “Immensely bothered, actually.”
Voran raised a brow at him.
A smudge of pink began to spread in Ruvus’s cheeks. He lowered his head. “The princess is an interruption. A disruptor.”
“A disruptor,” I repeated, fighting a smile.
“That is putting it mildly, my queen.” Ruvus sighed.
“I have much to do, and she does not. She lets that wyvern babe piddle on my boots, and no matter how well I hide them, she eats my candied sweets. She finished the last two books I was enjoying before me and then ruined them by telling me all about them. She’s spent an unspeakable amount of coin on gowns and cloaks and…
” He sucked in a deep breath that puffed his cheeks when he set it free.
Too curious, I asked, “What else has she done?”
“No.” His hand appeared to tremble as he swept it over his combed white hair. “All that is unsettling enough. I will not burden you with the rest.”
I coughed to cover the laughter I failed to trap. But I couldn’t help it. This male tortured people all the time, yet a princess who’d taken a liking to ruffling his meticulously groomed feathers had him deeply disturbed.
Voran licked his teeth behind his closed lips.
Elynia rescued us. In a long-sleeved gown of gold velvet, she entered the throne room like an exploding star. “Who is responsible for taking Oula to the dungeon?”
Talk lowered and ceased among the warriors.
“Fuck,” Voran muttered.
Ruvus stepped back as the princess reached us.
“She surrendered herself,” Voran said.
That only seemed to enrage the princess more. “Release her,” she seethed. “Right now.”
“Elynia.” As if fighting the urge to laugh incredulously, Voran flashed his teeth. “Oula gave Raxon a blood oath. She vowed to kill you should you try to leave this palace without him.”
Elynia rolled her eyes and marched close to her brother. “What you do not know is that she made another oath.” She stabbed a long nail at his chest. “She vowed to take a blade to her own heart before ever so much as maiming me.”
Voran stared down at his sister, appearing to search her flushed face for any hint of a lie. Then he looked at Ruvus.
The commander lifted a shoulder. “I could question her to—”
“No,” Elynia growled.
“—scent for the truth of the matter,” Ruvus finished calmly, yet with a pointed look at the princess.
Voran gave a nod.
Ruvus sighed. “Another I cannot touch.”
Elynia glared at the Truth Master.
He paid her no mind. Procuring a pad of parchment and a charcoal stick from within his cloak, he drew a line halfway down what looked to be a tidy list of names.
Voran’s mouth quirked. “More will come. Some stand to lose much from Raxon’s death. The worst of them will reveal themselves in the coming moons.”
Conversation again quietened. Wolves settled into rigid stances.
Voran eyed the doors while saying, “I think you have somewhere you need to be, Elynia.”
Indeed.
She’d promised to watch Dusk. I didn’t want the hatchling in here, arousing more tension between the visiting monarchs and us, and Celestine couldn’t mind her. Her parents were attending, so she needed to be ready for any attempts to make her go home.
Elynia groaned and sauntered toward the exit behind the throne, where Dusk waited angrily in a hunting cage. The stone door closed with a boom.
Still watching the doors, Voran muttered, “The golden prince arrives.”
Meront.
In a long gold coat, matching fitted pants, and brown boots, he looked exactly as Voran had called him—a golden prince. His hair had been combed back, revealing every inch of his freshly shaven square jaw.
He stopped just beyond Gore, as if unsure how to proceed.
Although we hadn’t left things on good terms at the archives, I crossed the throne room to greet him.
A smile slowly formed as I neared, and he took my hands.
Growling rumbled like thunder throughout the stone room.
Meront frowned. I took my hands back and nervously fussed with my skirts.
Eyeing the warriors watching him, he asked quietly, “You are well?”
“I am,” I said, meaning it. “And you?”
Continuing to survey the wolves, he nodded once. “I hear you survived a serakan.”
“Easy,” I said. “Compared to surviving Raxon.”
His chuckle relieved some of the tension in his shoulders. But his tone turned solemn when he whispered, “Please know that I had no idea about any of it. Not even our supposed nuptials.” As conversation began to flow between the wolves, he looked at me. “Not until it was much too late.”
Vehemence shone in his blue eyes.
I wasn’t at all surprised. I believed him.
“My parents will side with whoever holds the crown,” he added. “You know that.”
With whoever holds the power to give them a wyvern.
And to disrupt their lives.